Poisoned Rose
by TheRealRitaSkeeter
Summary: Right this is entirely AU, if your a LOTR purist fine, don't bother reading it. It is AU in having an OC of Merope, Voldemort's daughter. Yes I am probably taking excessive liberties with Tolkien's work for extremists, however this is written for my pleasure not that of purists. It is based on the films because I haven't read the book all the way through for a while. No Haters!


Poisoned Rose

(Sorry this is all film canonish as I haven't read LOTR for a while)

Arwen called forth the water and the white horses surged over the Black Riders and Sauron's minions were swept away, their poor horses drowning beneath them. As the water died down there was a flash of red on the other side of the river, across the stream, a bewildered and dying Frodo saw the Dark Lady for the first time. Slightly shorter than the average elf with pointed ears just showing through wavy black hair, a pale, beautiful face with violet eyes with a streak of black through them. She was wearing a simple white tunic with green breaches with a blood red cloak over the top. Most alarming was her smirk, directly aimed at the Halfling in front of Arwen.

"Daughter of Elrond, I have waited 3,000 years for the ring to make its self known to me. Pass the ring back over and I will cure the Halfling" the musical voice carried across the river.

"The ring will never return to the hands of Sauron, Belladonna!" Arwen retorted, hoping that her father would hurry up and get out here.

"You are right, Daughter of Elrond, the ring never will return to the hands of Sauron. I intend to destroy it myself"

Arwen although slightly startled by this declaration ignored the evil witch on the other side of the river and began to drag Frodo towards the beautiful house. As she got closer, her father ran out and carried the little hobbit into Rivendell to cure him.

Merope Riddle stood watching the ring disappear into the house of Elrond, she smirked, she could cross the river easily, and she was an elf, not a wraith.

"You wait, Daughter of Elrond, I will have the ring and I will have my freedom"

With that she brought a long staff made of elder wood out from under her cloak and transfigured the rocks nearby into a bridge and walked sedately across.

(One week later)

Merope clambered down from the tree that had been her home for the past week; she had heard all the elves and hobbits talk of the Council for hours, the elves what was to be discussed and the hobbits how they could eavesdrop on proceedings. She knew that the man, who had arrived with the particularly irritating hobbits, was the one mortal being she had been dreading the existence of. How had Arathorn managed to reproduce? She could have sworn the one time she had run into him in the Morgal Vale that he was either homosexual or utterly asexual. But no fifty years after she had thought she was finally free of a five thousand year old curse and an heir turns up.

"Someone must take the ring to Mordor and cast it into the fires of mount doom, one of you must do this" Elrond fully dressed in ceremonial robes was addressing a council of men, elves, dwarfs and a wizard and hobbit. As they started to argue and the irritatingly naïve hobbit announced that he would be the one to deposit the ring in mount doom, Merope jumped down from the roof into the centre of the court. Instantly rather a lot of weapons were drawn on her.

"That's not very nice; I'm only here to help"

The Blonde elf stood up and proceeded to demonstrate his hair colour, "Why would we need your help, she-witch?"

Merope scowled at him clearly nothing had changed in her 2000 years of wandering the Morgal vale, Mirkwood elves were just as stupid as they had been last time she'd met them.

"I can help you because I know how the ring works and how it poisons the mind, I helped make it."

The outcry started, led of course by the Mirkwood elf. Elrond cleared his throat, "Brothers, I suggest we accept this offer of help and invite Belladonna to join the fellowship"

Merope smirked, they didn't trust her enough to let her take it alone but they needed her. "I would be…honoured young master Elrond, however I ask to be referred to by my name not as a plant."

"What then" growled the dwarf "Is your name, she-witch?"

She smiled, "Merope, Master Gimli, Merope Druella Riddle"

The Following week the fellowship set off, grumpy and very frosty towards each other. Boromir was on bad terms with Aragorn for claiming that Gondor required no King and with Merope for attempting to suggest that she "camp" with him. The Hobbits, particularly Pippin and Meri were doing their best to calm everyone down; alas their particular brand of humour had only resulted in annoying Gandalf.

The fellowship were crossing through the dense snow of the pass of caracaras, The Hobbits despite their actual ages were being carried by Legolas, Boromir and Aragorn, Gimli's ginger hair was just visible over the snow, but he had insisted on walking with the comment "No one carries a Dwarf" to which the irritated Merope had responded "To you just want to write us a list of Dwarf etiquette just so that we know?"

Saruman's storm had been getting increasingly worst and Gimli and Boromir had begun irritating the hell out of everyone else in their constant suggestions of alternative routes for them to go. Eventually Gandalf had admitted defeat and suggested that Frodo decide which path they took, consequently they were now stood in the dark, dank tunnels that led into the mines of Moria, the way was shut behind them and Merope could feel bones crunching under her feet every time she stood. This was it. There was no way back now.

_Note I am fully aware that currently this is not a particularly good story, but I can assure you that it will get better; I have a much better idea of where the story is going once we get to the two towers. The only question is whether Boromir will live or not?_


End file.
